There is no doubt that to be human is at times a profoundly painful and difficult experience. In an age of increasing reliance on technology and artificial intelligence, when we suffer, when we are faced with decisions, we have the ability and may even find it helpful to turn to Chatbots for guidance. In psychoanalysis, we learn to trust our own thoughts and feelings, and we find direction and meaning by developing the ability and life-long practice of listening to what’s inside of us.
To choose psychoanalysis is to make room in your life for a deeply engaging process of delving into your thoughts and feelings with another human. It is vulnerable, hard work that requires time (multiple sessions/week), money (depending on insurance coverage), and emotional presence. It is not a quick fix. The struggle to see and be seen, understood, and witnessed is at the core of this endeavor.
By following what goes through your mind (thoughts, feelings, images, memories, dreams, and bodily sensations), we begin to make connections, deepening your understanding of yourself. Coming to know yourself involves developing awareness of things that were previously unknown and often includes facing difficult truths. This process unfolds in the relationship between you and your analyst/therapist. It is a relationship like none other, though at times the dynamics between you and your analyst will resemble other significant relationships in you life. What occurs between you and your analyst is central to the psychoanalytic experience and helps to strengthen your relationship with others as well as with yourself. For some, the goals of analysis are to become more alive in the presence of another, to develop the capacity for a wide range of emotions, and the freedom that comes with this.
Allow me to describe psychoanalysis as if it were a dream:
Imagine taking a long walk in a place you have never been. The trail begins along a rocky shore, where the footing is uneven and uncertain. Mostly, you lead the way and I follow; sometimes I’m a little ahead of you. Not knowing where we’re headed, we stumble upon a path that veers away from the shore and over a fallen tree. We find ourselves in a blow-down, where large exposed roots and soil from uprooted trees make the path difficult to traverse, and we crawl on hands and knees and feel our way under branches. We lose the trail, consider turning around, but then to our surprise, find it again. The path continues through a grove of ferns, their feathery fronds uncoiled, bending inward as we go deeper into the woods, where the tall canopy blocks the sunlight and the air is cool on our skin. Here the ground is thick with moss, and we lie down on the sponge-like cushion to rest. With a small magnifying glass, we examine tiny moss plants, admire intricate hairlike structures, which anchor each plant to the ground. You have the feeling that you have been here before. From somewhere in the forest a wood thrush sings; the flute-like melody fills your lungs with longing, and from deep within, a memory surfaces for the first time.
If you are curious about psychoanalysis, contact me and we can explore your questions together.